Snow Shoes
by grilledjellyfish
Summary: Their troop maneuver leads the Colonel's unit into the Briggs Mountains... and things are getting hairy, uhm, snowy. Royai...Spoilers Ch74
1. Chapter 1

Author's rambling:

Yosh! New story, new luck… or so I hope n.n

This story contains spoilers for some speech bubbles in chapter 74… so its probably pretty unspoilerish to read on!

Now have fun and r&r!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Hawkeye…"

He paused mid-sentence to take a haste breath, sweat trickling down his face despite the freezing temperatures. He came to an abrupt halt behind his 1st Lieutenant, right when she lifted her faithful weapon, pointing the barrel at the huge bear towering threateningly above a whimpering Kain Fuery.

"Why was there no memo?"

A gloved index finger pressed the trigger and a metal bullet whizzed out of the gun, piercing the air and flying right past the furry ear of the beast. The predator looked around bewildered, totally oblivious to the man crawling away from him.

"There was, Colonel."

-.-.-.-.-.-

5 days earlier

-.-.-.-.-

Colonel Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist and womanizer had a secret list hidden under a stack of uninteresting, totally unimportant love letters directed at him from uncountable women strewn all across Eastern HQ.

Nobody knew of said list. No-one!

This list contained his very own personal "top ten of things/people I hate and want to obliterate".

'Why did he have such a top ten?', one may think, but because nobody –not even his faithful subordinates- knew of its existence, nobody had ever come to ask and basically, no one actually cared for the reason why the Colonel sometimes dug through his drawer, looking for "That god dammed thing!" instead of doing his paperwork. Except for Lieutenant Havoc, who believed that the "God dammed something" was actually a list of single women. He would give his right hand to get a closer look!

The very secret sheet of white paper had several names and various things written in a drawl on it. Among which where Führer King Bradley, Maes Hughes, Edward Elric, standard military uniforms unisex-style and rain.

Right now, one eyebrow twitching in annoyance, Roy was holding another three reasons of constant stomachache in his -for once- ungloved hands.

A _memo_ containing the word _maneuver_ and the name _Major General Armstrong_.

A groan escaped his lips and he sunk deeper into his leather chair, trying to hide his despair behind the stacks of unfinished paperwork covering his desk like a mountain chain. But the damn memo from hell seemed to possess the power to part the stacks like a curtain and so he gazed right into the stern eyes of his beloved aide.

"Sir." She simply stated, turning around in her chair to face her superior completely. He looked like he wanted the sheet of innocent paper to combust spontaneously in his hands, but thanks to some miracle (military orders not to wear ignition gloves at work… there had been _that _accident once) he wasn't in possession of his favorite weapon right then and the memo remained in one un-scorched piece.

"They can't order us to do this, Hawkeye."

The whining tone in the Colonel's voice had the desired effect and all his male subordinates turned away from their work to see what had caused their CO to almost cry. What monster had turned this epitome of manliness into a whimpering child?

"Actually, sir, the Führer _can_ order you."

Sighing dramatically, Roy sat up straight again and closed is eyes for a second, collecting himself for whatever mad protesting would come. After a few seconds of careful preparations of the mind and body, he stood up and faced his bewildered subordinates.

"Gentlemen, _Lieutenant_." He addressed them all, his eyes flickering towards Hawkeye, who had to suppress a shake of her head at the way he had said her title with the slightest hint of hurt and accusation. As if it was _her_ fault!

Mustang's hands were folded behind his back as he walked out from behind his desk solemnly, a melodramatic sigh audible as he made eye contact with Havoc, Breda, Fuery and Falman.

"Under the orders of Führer King Bradley, the next troop maneuver of our unit will be held in the Briggs mountains in four days from now. We are to infiltrate the Fort within five days. No restrains. No rules." He paused for effects, gaining a few groans and curses from the male part of his unit and a stony face from the only woman.

"Make preparations, we'll ship out in three days! I will hear no complaints!"

His gaze flickered to his 1st Lieutenant, hoping to find at least a tiny little speck of regret and irritation at the prospect of spending five days in the snowy, devastatingly cold mountains with a bunch of immature soldiers (her words).

But to his overly dismay, he only found the back of her head facing him. She had already resumed working on her last few sheets of paperwork… which meant, she would soon come over to relieve him of some of his own.

This time, he wouldn't feel sorry for not having worked harder!

-.-.-.-.-.-

"Sir?"

His lips were pressed together into a thin line as he stared ahead into… whiteness.

"Sir?!"

Nothing but snow, snow and ice. The rocky surface of the Briggs Mountains was covered in at least two meters of hard snow and a dark grey storm bellowed its way down the slide they were standing on, slowly covering their boots up to their ankles in white flakes and ice.

"Sir!!"

Turning around slowly, Roy eyed the men gathered behind him with a grimace that told them all they needed to know about his mental state. The Colonel wanted to go back… well, he actually didn't care exactly where, just out of this white hell, where the only exciting thing was the howl of the wind and the question how long it would take until he had turned into a shock frosted snowman.

"Yes, Havoc?" Roy finally asked in a tone that conveyed his heavy mood just brilliantly. If his voice had lacked any more motivation, one may have actually come to the conclusion, that the Flame Alchemist was standing out in the nowhere against his will…

"What's the plan, boss?" The loaded question hit Mustang like a snowball and within an eye's blink he had turned back (somewhat) into his normal self. With an aura of self-consciousness and dignity (despite the dripping nose), he plodded through the thick blanket of snow towards his ever faithful men… and had to frown when he actually found only_ men_ standing there.

He was tempted to count his subordinates, when he felt the presence of someone right behind him.

"The sight is bad, if not miserable, sir." Hawkeye's voice erupted and Roy found himself forced to turn around once again, abandoning his first intention to order his soldiers back to the road they had left some ten minutes ago. His attention solely focused on the 1st Lieutenant, he frowned at her appearance.

A thick coat, snow goggles and lined knee-high boots made her look like the legendary ice monster that was said to live up here in the mountains. Well, a monster she was… and with that rifle slung across her shoulder and the numerous guns hidden somewhere inside the folds of her fuzzy outfit, she was probably at least twice as deadly.

"I was able to make out an outcrop about one hundred and fifty meters to the south, but I couldn't see farther than that. According to the blueprints, there should be an old emergency tunnel in that area." She finished her report, pulling the binoculars out from one of the many pockets and handing it back to a trembling Falman.

"Good." Roy began, thanking whatever higher being had had mercy with him in the past and had blessed him with an independently thinking, good looking 2IC. "That's real good, Lieutenant." And with that he swiveled back around, finding slightly blue men waiting for his orders.

"After careful consideration, I decided to head south! Strap your backpacks tight and follow me! We'll bring that General – I mean, that Fort down!"

If he had hoped for a cheerful tune of '_Yessir_'s ,Roy had been sorely mistaken. Instead, some bowed heads started to walk towards him, trudging through the deep snow and leaving sad imprints of military boots behind.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

FINIS?!

Weeeell.

This is obviously a tag story to chapter 74 when Riza talked about their maneuver in the Briggs Mountains. I instantly had this idea, but only recently (yesterday) found the time to start writing… -.-'

If you think this fic has potential, or if you want to tell me how much I suck (I'll probably start crying or something T.T), please feel free to drop a few lines! Next chapter (did you actually think this madness was over? Ha!) already in work, so gimme some motivation, folks!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's rambling:

Yosh! I am totally happy, some of you guys liked the first chapter! I can only hope this one pleases you somewhat!! Now read on and don't forget to r&r!!

Oh! I've finally started to learn Japanese!! Yosh!! I definitely love this way more than roman languages (Spanish, Latin and French have never been my best friends… T.T).

Now on with the show!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Day 1

-.-.-.-.-.-

0300.  
Third watch.  
Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred so far.

The night was silent, the snow storm having stopped hours ago when they had first set foot under the rocky outcrop. Their camp had been set within minutes and their first frozen meal had been as expected: frozen.

Jean Havoc, by trade 2nd Lieutenant, was sitting at the entrance of their luxurious camp side, his dark-rimmed eyes giving testimonial to his sleep deprived mind and slightly irked nerves. Chewing on his unlit cigarette and ignoring the gross taste of the tobacco, he glared out into the strange twilight of the northern night.

"_Don' smoke, Havoc_." He mumbled under his breath, his voice a few notches higher as he imitated the tone of his female comrade. He made a grimace when he swallowed a few pieces of the dried plant, almost coughing.

He chanced a glace around, hoping nobody had woken and found the other members of his unit lying more or less peacefully behind him. Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was closest to his position, with her back turned towards him.

Havoc knew that despite the even falling and rising of the material of her thick sleeping bag, the woman was one hell of a light sleeper. One wrong move, one suspicious noise and the weapon she was hiding close to her chest would leave a nice hole in the intruder's skull.

But even so… maybe… if he was careful…

Gnawing at his bottom lip, Jean looked around, searching his surroundings for any sign that someone was watching. When he was satisfied that no shadows were looming in the snow inside and outside their hiding place, he stuffed his hand into one breast pocket, producing his beloved lighter.

Riza had no idea how hard this cigarette-prohibition was on him! _She_ wasn't the one addicted to that stuff!

Just a short drag and he would put it out again… just one drag…

A small flame shot out from the lighter, the light flickering across Havoc's features as he brought it close to his cigarette. The fire touched the end of the half chewed coffin nail and Jean started to inhale the first cloud of heavenly smoke.

The attack came so suddenly, that the tall man didn't even get the chance to yelp, let alone dive behind the boulder he was sitting on for cover.

The perfectly formed snowball hit him squarely in the face, the newly lit cigarette sizzling as the icy water dripped from the fuming end. The slightly warmed missile finally dropped completely from Havoc's face, revealing a gaping man. As the snowball landed in his lap, it began to slowly melt away, forming a distinctively familiar stain around the area of the Lieutenant's crotch.

Baffled and speechless, Jean stared open mouthed at the sitting form of his superior.

"I told you not to smoke, Havoc." With that said, Riza lay down again, completely oblivious to the almost weeping man.

-.-.-.-.-.-

0800.  
Sunny, clear sky.  
Time to ship out.

"Time to ship out!" Colonel Roy Mustang bellowed across his shoulder, gloved hands pulling the straps of his backpack tighter as he prepared to move out into the open where his 1st Lieutenant was already waiting with a long metal pole in one hand.

Behind him, still under the rocky outcrop, his other subordinates where hiding the last remains of their abandoned camp side as best as somehow possible… with their boot prints strewn all across the thin layer of dirty snow.

The team had a three day trip ahead and the Colonel wanted to get an early start on their journey, especially since he would have loved nothing more than to get this complete waste of time done and over with. The Führer wanted a show? He would get one!

"Hawkeye?" He asked his 2IC and was happy, when she nodded, apparently no more words needed.

Roy had elaborated the theory that because of secret mechanisms known only to God and very few scientists, he and Hawkeye had obtained some sort of hyper-fast mind link! The bandwidth of this connection exceeded easily that of an average telephone and then there was their above-average-IQ… Someday he would have to run some tests, e.g. whether it worked through walls and without knowledge of the other one's whereabouts.

"I found the entrance to the emergency tunnel some fifty meters down this hill, but after close inspections, I came to the conclusion that it would be unwise to enter the shaft. According to the map and the compass, we have to head north-north-east for about three kilometers; then we should be able to see the mountain chain building the border to Drachma."

Nodding –and stroking his nonexistent beard thoughtfully- Roy waited until he felt his men gathering around him, waiting eagerly for their next orders.

"We'll follow that route, gentlemen and then take the first break."

A muffled groan originating very likely from Breda could be heard as the four soldiers took after their superior grudgingly, already wishing for Sherpa's or some horses to carry their heavy backpacks. Especially Havoc -still partly awed at Hawkeye's ability to throw snowballs at night with an accuracy of 100 and at the same time totally nerved by the fact that he still hadn't gotten a good lung full of cigarette smoke- would have liked another few minutes of peace, because the third watch had left him with little rest.

Listening to Breda and Havoc mumbling protests under their breath, Fuery inhaled deeply, marveling at the wonderful smell of cold air and snow. As a child born in the hot east, he had always loved white winters… despite the fact that his glasses froze on a regular basis because of his breath's condense water on their surfaces.

With his snow goggles hanging around his neck (he couldn't see anything through them…) he watched the Colonel and 1st Lieutenant poking and prodding the snow in front of them with long poles, looking for holes in the blanket and possible crevasses.

What a lucky fellow he was! Who wouldn't be thankful to have been stationed under the command of such wonderful examples of COs. They cared for their subordinates, protected the weak and did everything in their power to keep him and his comrades out of troub-

A startled yelp was torn from Kain's throat when his right boot found no solid ground and disappeared underneath the snowy surface. Caught totally off-guard, the Private lost his balance, arms flailing helplessly and eyes widening in shock.

He felt himself falling through the snow into the black abyss that had suddenly opened itself right underneath him and waited for the telltale-film sequence of past events to flash through his mind, but instead he simply asked himself why he hadn't gotten a pole of his own?!

"Fuery!"

The rope around his midsection cut into his stomach as it served its purpose of tying the young soldier to his comrades and so Fuery' fall stopped abruptly. He started to swing lazily from one side of the crevasse to the other, bumping against solid ice. He didn't dare look above for fear, he would find himself already ascending towards heaven (he couldn't have survived that fall) and instead listened to the angelic voices of Petrus and his winged friends talking about the wonders of the afterlife:

"Fuery! Hang in there!"  
"Breda, hold on tight!"  
"I can't… hold on… much longeeeer!"

Kain felt a sudden jolt jerking his body around and then he was falling again.

And a fraction of a second later, he was hanging mid-air once more, legs dangling above black nothingness.

"Falman! Don't let go of me!!"  
"Tell that Havoc!!"  
"God! Breda go on a diet!!"

Unbeknownst to Fuery, his fall had caused a chain reaction… in the literal sense of the word.

Thanks to Mustang, they had all tied ropes around their waists in case something like this would happen. But because of the momentum of Fuery's fall, Breda hadn't been able to –despite his praiseworthy reactions- get a good hold on the slippery edge of the deep abyss and when the short man had started to sway around, he had lost his hold on the edge of the crevasse.

But death's plan to get those two soldiers hadn't taken the suicidal attitude of the other unit members into consideration and so Breda was hanging some two meters under the surface of the long vertical tunnel, the hands of Havoc and Falman parting him and Fuery from a long fall.

Roy Mustang wasn't easily impressed nor was it easy to make him laugh.

Right now he actually had to suppress the laughing fit that was tickling in his throat at the sight his subordinates presented. They could have given quite a few circus artists a run for their money with their little show there, which was, in addition to some humoristic interludes, in its entirety an impressive one.

Standing right above the heads of Havoc and Falman, the raven haired man tried to get his brain back into gear.

He had to get his men out of their predicament! How would he be able to master all the paperwork back in Eastern HQ without them? And even worse: Their death would cause even _more _forms to appear on his desk!

"Hawkeye! Get me the ro-"  
"Here's the rope, sir!"

Looking slightly out of his depths, Roy took the proffered end of the rope and watched with a risen eyebrow as his 2IC lay flat down on her stomach, slinging the end of another rope around Havoc's midsection.

Not slow to follow, Mustang did the same, wondering when exactly she had tied the other ends of the ropes around the nearby conifer…

"I'll transmute the ice down there into a floor construction!" Roy yelled down into the crevasse, wincing as the echo of his voice was thrown back at him. "Breda, gimme a rough estimation of how far down Fuery has fallen!"

There was a long pause, Roy and Riza gazing down into the black pharynx of the glacier pit.

"Can't tell, sir! But I fear his rope is tearing!!"

Standing up again, Mustang looked around wildly. He could take the risk of doing the transmutation, but if he miscalculated the height, he could possibly smash Fuery with the solid ice board or, depending on how far down the transmuted ice was, the walls could get instable and crumble.

He was still considering his options in high speed, when he saw movement in the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, Roy turned around, just to find his personal bodyguard undoing the rope that bound them together.

"Hawkeye?" He asked incredulously. "What are you doing?"

Instead of answering immediately, Riza pulled out another rope from Roy's backpack and tied one end around the nearby tree and threw the rest down into the crevasse. Getting onto her knees, she slowly inched over the edge, hands holding expertly onto the rope.

"I'll go down and secure Fuery and tell you the exact position. Please hurry with the preparations, sir." With her plan revealed, she started to lower herself down into the hole, passing by two baffled 2nd Lieutenants and a Warrant Officer on her descent to where Fuery was dangling silently in mid-air.

The shock clearly visible on Roy's features lasted for less than one second. Exactly the time, Riza needed to climb out of sight.

Falling to his knees, the young Colonel started to engrave a transmutation circle into the icy snow, mind reeling as he made up the exact composition of the array. Making such circles wasn't as easy as it seemed! One had to consider a multitude of factors, including outer effects, density of the material, range of the transmutation and energy needed to perform it.

In the meantime, Hawkeye had reached Kain where he was hanging limply, the rope preventing him from tumbling into nothingness having already reached a point where it was a miracle that it hadn't torn, yet.

"Private!" Riza barked, taking hold of his belt with one hand and holding onto the rope for dear's life with the other. She had somehow managed to find a slight foothold in the crevasses surface, keeping herself and Fuery steady.

At hearing his title from a woman nearby, Kain dared to lift his chin high enough to gaze into the face of the owner, eyes glassy and bleary. "Are you an angel?"

Riza ignored the shock-induced blabbering of the young man and looked up at the opening of the deep hole, finding the head of her superior blocking some of the bright light, a halo framing his messy black mop of hair.

"6 point 8 meters!!"

She had barely yelled the number up at the waiting Colonel, when the all too familiar sizzling noise of the transmutation could be heard and only milliseconds later, a board of solid ice shot out from one side of the crevasse, building a bridge right underneath Riza's lined boots.

Hawkeye took a ginger step onto the newly made floor (she did trust the Colonel to transmute properly, but, well… Riza liked to be on the safe side). At the exact same second, the rope connecting Fuery to Breda tore and the short soldier crashed onto the newly made rescue board.

Rolling her eyes, Riza grabbed him by his arms and pulled the dazed man into a standing position, tying the rope she had used earlier around his upper body.

Having made sure, he was secured, she turned around, grabbed the rope and started to climb back up with such ease, that the men watching from above thought they were confronted with a mountain goat.

It took them all of twenty seconds, to pull Fuery back upwards and weren't surprised to find him close to tears. Havoc barely dodged a very unmanly hug directed at his waist, glaring profoundly down at where Kain had just gotten hold of his boot to embrace.

Roy watched them for a moment and turned then around to where Hawkeye was undoing the knots of the ropes tied around the conifer.

Yes. What a lucky man he was.

-.-.-.-.-.-

1630.  
Gloomy.  
Cold.

"Did you see the actual fight?"

An angry huff, followed by "No, had day shift, dammit!" could be heard as two man made their way along the line of tall trees. They each had one rifle slung across their shoulder as they marched through the knee high snow.

"I asked Petriv to take over my watch just this once, but that idiot had his own bet placed and so…" He trailed off grumpily, making a disgruntled face when he remembered that damn day.

"Ha! Shit, I'd say! He so totally owned that toddler! I mean, who challenges Major Miles and lives long enough to count his brain cells? Hahahaha!!" Soldier A barked out, laughing hard at the thought of somebody actually winning against that Ishvalian animal of a man!

"At least I didn't lose any money, but-" Soldier B trailed off slowly, frowning as he listened into the silence. There had been something right behind them… maybe a bird or a snow fox…

There! Again something moved through the underbrush, small pebbles of iced snow falling from the trees' needles.

Silently, he took the rifle from his shoulder and turned around, stalking closer to where he believed the source of the noise to be hiding, his comrade already close to follow his lead. Again the small bush right in front of him moved and soldier B got down on one knee, pointing the barrel at the center of the frozen plant.

The bush moved again and B applied the slightest bit of pressure to the trigger, when he suddenly heard something tall fall into the snow behind him with a muffled thud.

Swiveling around, the soldier trained his weapon at the thing that had made the sound and was shocked to find his comrade lying face down in the soft snow. Wide eyes traveling along the form of A, he found a pair of thighs protruding out of the deep snow, disappearing in a thick coat.

As his eyes finally reached the face, he almost yelped when he found female lips right underneath a pair of shaded eyes, glowing red in the fading sun.

The woman was merely standing there, staring at him, golden strands of hair waving around in the strong wind.

Suddenly a sharp pain at the base of his neck and darkness crept up on his fogging mind. With the last conscious thought, soldier B watched as the woman faded away in the snow storm until he was left alone in darkness…

-.-.-.-.-.-

Present

-.-.-.-.-.-

1700.  
Another snow storm.  
The next joint training should be held in the east.

"That was a close call, ne?!" Roy Mustang was a happy camper.

Why? Because the first act of his perfidious plan had been put into scene… if not a bit unplanned, because making such a fuss right from the start hadn't exactly been part of his scheme of making a fool of Major General Armstrong in public.

"We should try to stay off of their tracks for the time being, sir. We can't afford to run into a patrol again."

Nodding, Mustang eyed his 1st Lieutenant sideways, smiling inwardly when he found the hood of her coat drawn deep into her face and giving her an aura of an ice monster once again. Her cheeks were flushed and that pink nose of hers just looked so… so… adorable! He really had to suppress his instincts of tweaking the nip of her nose.

"Did you hear that, Colonel?" Riza suddenly asked and the dream sequence in which he had just started to caress her red cheeks burst like a bubble…

"No, wh-"

"Uaaaaaah!!"

"Breda!" The two gasped in unison.

As fast as possible with their boots sinking deep into the snow, the pair moved through the white landscape, panting heavily from the straining run.

It took them only about a minute to reach their newly set up campsite and were greeted by two heavily breathing 2nd Lieutenants staring horrified at a huge monstrous bear standing on its hind legs right in the middle of their camp.

The beast was in the process of swinging a clawed paw down at Falman, who dove for cover behind a backpack just in time. The military standard issue backpack was torn to pieces and the content blown apart by the force.

Fuery, having just been in the process of running away, toppled over a discarded pan and fell face first into the icy snow, jerking around in time to see the monster move up right to his feet.

"Hawkeye…"

Roy paused mid-sentence to take a haste breath, sweat trickling down his face despite the freezing temperatures. He came to an abrupt halt behind his 1st Lieutenant, right when she lifted her faithful weapon, pointing the barrel at the huge bear towering threateningly above a whimpering Kain Fuery.

"Why was there no memo?"

A gloved index finger pressed the trigger and a metal bullet whizzed out of the gun, piercing the air and flying right past the furry ear of the beast. The predator looked around bewildered, totally oblivious to the man crawling away from him. Riza hadn't shot to kill. Despite her reputation to be a cold-hearted, military bloodhound with the best aim in the history of Amestris, she couldn't bring herself to kill animals. Especially when it was very likely their own fault that the bear had attacked.

"There was, Colonel."

Making a sniffing noise, the bear returned to all four, looked around once more and slowly trudged away from Mustang's unit, leaving behind a totally wrecked camp.

-.-.-.-.-.-

2000.  
Night shifts were the worst.  
Why was the temperature inside the Fort as low as outside anyway?

"Did you hear?" A series of low mumbled confirmations and the room was silent again for a few tense seconds.

"It's the mysterious woman again." One man started to whisper, looking around at his comrades. "She's said to be the ghost of a woman who got lost in the mountains and died after the Fort had left her standing outside in the cold."

"No… she's a Drachman spy!"  
"I tell ya, the ghost woman has returned to get revenge!!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

FINIS?!

Before anything else: This isn't exactly the same joint training Major General Armstrong meant in chapter 66 and Hawkeye mentioned in chapter 74. I do know that at that time, only Havoc and Hawkeye participated. This story is based upon my wish to make the whole unit suffer… so… I make them suffer.

Those of you, who have read "Back to Back" should know what comes next: I'm currently enslaved in an university internship for the next few weeks… I'll be working on the third chapter during this time. Sorry!!

P.S.: To the anon reviewer in Chap 1: Leave your e-mail or log in when reviewing and I'll try to help ya!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's rambling:

Yes, I do know that is has been weeks since I last updated, but real life caught up… I'll try to get the next chapter (if you want one anyway -.-) done sooner! Promise!!

Now go and r&r!!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Day 2

-.-.-.-.-.-

0530.

It had been a cold night.

… so far.

Roy Mustang was known to be a notorious late-comer. He came too late to work, too late to meetings, too late to his very own birth (he had been two weeks overdue when his mother had had a very serious internal talk with her unborn son…). He even came too late to rendezvous and let's not even mention how late his daily dose of paperwork usually was.

Everybody in Eastern HQ knew of his tardiness and had learned to arrange their lives around it, meaning, that when one wanted to actually see the Colonel, they had to trick him into believing that for example the next meeting was 30 minutes earlier than it was in reality.

Everybody?

No. There was one person, one lonely wolf among the cattle of yes-saying, obsequious puppies always gathered around the Colonel's boots, tails between their legs as they begged for attention and recognition.

Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang being tardy? Not when _she_ was around.

He never came too late to work, never missed a meeting and almost always finished his load of paperwork. The only thing, she couldn't change was the part with the rendezvous. But he wouldn't need to concern himself with such profanities, because his fan girls were way too persistent to leave even after they had waited outside in the cold for over an hour.

Today was no exception.

Roy_knew_ he had to get up, out of his cozy sleeping bag and into his combat BDUs, have some energy bars for breakfast and tell his ever faithful subordinates the ultimate strategy to end all strategies.

Unfortunately for some reason, he couldn't open his eyes. He really, really wanted to, but something he couldn't yet name had decided to kick in and had sealed his eyes closed for the time being. There was this voice, insisting to stay put for only another few seconds… just a few.

Despite his better judgment, Mustang pried his heavy lids open.

… and stared.

Apparently, it had been his newly found self-preservation sense that had so vehemently insisted on staying still.

There was some shuffling and a very low, barely audible mutter coming from the head attached somewhere to the wonderful back of his 1st Lieutenant, which was only covered with a white top and cotton panties.

He suddenly realized with a sly grin, that he should probably make himself noticed… but well, whatever!

Instead, he lay perfectly still, snickering inwardly as he watched her getting dressed as fast as somehow and humanly possible without getting frostbite. Now _that_ would look gross on such a wonderfully formed behind: necrotic tissue! Gah!!

Not that he hadn't already been lucky enough (though the circumstances had been grave) to get a few good looks of her bare back, but the sight of _this_ half naked woman was just something he wouldn't tire so easily of.

Hawkeye had already reached her boots, when Roy noticed his eyes were still wide open as he mentally enjoyed the re-run of that short dream-like sequence in slow motion and he decided to close them to make her believe, she hadn't been ogled over.

Listening to the methodical way, she was tying her laces, he counted slowly to ten, having come to the decision, that sometime he actually had to get up for real. There was a mission to accomplish and asses to kick!!

… 8… 9…

"Colonel, you can stop pretending to be asleep."

The neutral tone of her voice hit him like a rock and he actually cringed as if in pain, opening his charcoal eyes and looking up at her towering form with the most pathetic puppy-dog-eyes ever seen on his face.

Miss Ice-monster didn't even start to melt and instead threw his dry pants into his face. Blindfolded with his own dirty BDUs, Roy listened as Hawkeye stalked through the snow to the small fireplace, extinguishing the lazy flames with some well aimed semi-frozen water. It sizzled away into nothingness, taking its wonderful warmth along into oblivion.

Swearing under his breath, Roy jumped out of his sleeping bag, wrestled his legs into his pants, fell twice into the flattened snow around their camp side and even got his heavy coat buttoned up with some of the fire's heat still clinging onto his senses and making him believe, he was actually feeling warm… not.

"Damn bear."

Frowning, Mustang eyed his tall 2nd Lieutenant sitting on a rock, pulling on grey knee-high socks.

"Havoc?" The Colonel questioned, watching his other subordinates shuffle around and pack their backpacks with their gear.

"I'd love to skin that fucking bear and make socks out of his fur." Jean retorted around the rest of his first cigarette in 24 hours (Riza had been so kind as to allow him _one _cig as long as the fire was still burning).

Nodding, Roy eyed his own backpack thoughtfully. Or better what had been left of it, after the mad bear had gone berserk the evening before and had wrecked most of their gear, leaving behind a sorry rest of five days worth of field rations and shredded clothes. Only Hawkeye's and Fuery's backpacks had been spared, but there were only few military men manly enough to wear women's BDUs and not lose their dignity, reputation and/or self-respect.

So they had dried their clothes over the cozy fire over the night, but had to live with the dirt and smell.

"You'll survive." "Well, the bear sure did…" Came the retort with a sideways (accusing) glance at Hawkeye.

Shrugging noncommittally, Roy trudged over to where the rest of his unit had already gathered, waiting for him to make the first order of the day.

"According to the map, there's a sporadically used tunnel in the north from here. We'll head down this hill and follow the old bed of a brook until we reach the entrance. From there we proceed with utmost caution. No words, no noise whatsoever. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yessir!" greeted him and then Roy turned towards his 2IC.

"We'll have to try and get some food, before entering the tunnel. Won't get far with those energy bars." "Of course, sir." Riza answered faithfully, mentally preparing her hunting strategy involving the fact that they couldn't stop to find their prey.

"Then we're off to see the wizard."

-.-.-.-.-.-

1445.

A strange stillness hovered above the Fort.

The toilettes in the basement were frozen.

"Blood?"

"Yes,_blood_."

A shudder went through the rows of bulky men, the level of testosterone way too low for Briggs standards.

"_She_ has struck again." One brave individual mumbled, eyes wide in fear. "A unit of the mountain security force saw her from the other side of the mountain on their patrol. They watched her through their binoculars as she bent over a dead boar, ripping it apart with her claws. She drank its blood and tore the body to pieces in a matter of seconds."

"So much blood..." Someone whispered, sweeping a sweaty palm across his features and a comrade patted his back sympathetically.

"She_must_ be a ghost! She was wearing a long white dress… her red eyes were glowing like that of a ghoul!"

Just then, it happened that their beloved and feared CO, Major General Armstrong herself, walked past, Major Miles and Captain Buccaneer naturally part of her entourage.

Looking down from the gangway at the small crowd of conspicuously whispering men, she stopped dead and watched them for another few seconds through narrowed eyes. With stony features, she continued to eye them wearily, while waving Major Miles towards her.

"What are those jerks up to?" She asked, gripping the hilt of her rapier loosely.

"You surely do remember the incident 18 years ago, when a woman was prowling the outskirts of the Fort and attacking our units." He didn't wait for an answer that wouldn't come anyway. "It appears the troops have been confronted with a female intruder twice within the last 24 hours."

A piercing glare was directed down at the gathered soldiers, as Armstrong contemplated whether or not to send those idiots naked outside to teach them, that the only woman with claws they should be afraid of was actually their CO.

"Send a unit down to where she was last seen. Armed as you see fit, Miles. I don't want another bitch running wild, making my men chicken out like damn gossips!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

1450.

A snowstorm had come up.

Why was Havoc limping?

"Ya alright, Havoc?"

Gaining no reaction whatsoever, Breda made a face at his comrade's back and trudged on, trying to ignore the slightly swaying man walking right in front of him. Was it possible to get sea-sick in the mountains?

Probably not. Especially when there wasn't even food inside his churning stomach. His last real meal had been way back and those energy bars (even when they actually tasted like strawberry for once!) weren't even enough to fill the hole in his tooth.

Staring at the backpack of Riza Hawkeye, Breda felt the water gather in his mouth.

A dead snow rabbit was dangling hypnotically down from where it was tied to the rucksack by its hind legs, dead black eyes staring into nothingness. Hawkeye had killed it about one and a half hours ago and together with the ptarmigan Havoc and Mustang had bagged and that was now tied to Falman's backpack, they would have a nice meal by the end of the day.

The problem was, that it wasn't even close to ending any time soon…

"Where was this entrance again?"

The male part of Mustang's unit eyed their female CO carefully, barely able to detect the suppressed opening and closing of her gloved fist as she walked along Roy's side, uttering a short "Another hundred meters, sir." back at their whining leader as they moved on, down the hill and through waist high snow.

Not that the Colonel had asked the exact same question five minutes ago and five minutes before that as well… no wonder Hawkeye was slowly but surely on the way of losing her cool. Though Havoc suspected that he was doing it, to keep their spirits up… or he was just suicidal…

Fuery, not really following the slightly tense banter between the two, glared suspiciously down at the white ground, trying to step into the same boot prints as his comrades. He was still slightly shaken from his experience with the crevasse and didn't fully trust the two soldiers leading them down the mountain side to find all the possible death holes hidden underneath the white blanket.

So he had taken it upon himself to find every precarious abyss and look out for roaring bears.

And that was exactly what he was doing. His eyes flickered from the ground to the sky, back to the ground and up to the top of the mountain.

His glasses were already back on their way to where his boots were sinking deep into the snow, when his orbs focused on two dirty white dots moving hastily down the path they had taken only half an hour ago.

Frowning, he stopped in his tracks and watched them for another second, when suddenly realizing that the dots were mountain goats.

"Oh!" He said in awe, gaining his buddies' attention. "Look! How beautiful!"

Smiling contently, he didn't notice Hawkeye moving up beside him, her breath coming out in foggy puffs of condensed air.

Her brows had knitted together into a frown as well, but unlike the happy Private, she was glaring up at the two wildly jumping animals, her whole body tensing as she felt a rumble rolling through the ground and up her legs.

"Get moving! Move, move, move!!" She suddenly yelled, grabbing Kain by his sleeve and dragging him along with her as she started to gain speed.

The rumbling intensified and a low groan echoed down the mountain, sounding suspiciously like masses of snow rushing down towards them.

"An avalanche!!" Falman yelled as he sped down the hill, catching up to Mustang and Havoc. Riza, Fuery and Breda were hot on his heels, panting heavily as they moved with some difficulty through the deep snow that was practically pulling them down.

The noise was so loud, that Hawkeye thought her eardrums would shatter. A shock wave of cold air hit the group hard and Breda fell forward, diving into loose snow and emerging as fast as possible. The pressure of the air that got carried along in front of the avalanche had also caused the Colonel to stumble, but before he had the chance to fall, a strong hand closed around his upper arm and pulled him forcefully into a standing position.

Still rushing down the hill full speed, he caught sight of his 1st Lieutenant running alongside him. She had let go of Fuery seconds ago, contempt that he was flanked by Havoc and Falman.

Riza could feel fist-big balls of hard snow hitting her back as the avalanche gained more and more on the fleeing group. The air around them had gotten thick with powdery snow, covering their faces in a thin sheen of frozen water that immediately melted on their heated features and trickled down along with their sweat.

"We won't… make it!!" Breda pressed out between pants, finding it harder and harder to move through the high snow and keep up with his comrades.

"We_have _to, dammit!!" Roy yelled back as he dared to look across his shoulder.

In the same instant, he regretted the action as he came face to face with a wall of angry whiteness. Like a curtain, a cloud of snow suddenly engulfed them completely, the pressure of the avalanche increasing to the point where Mustang had problems breathing.

Barely able to see the hand in front of his face, he grabbed blindly for Riza's hand, almost sighing in relief when he was able to grasp it.

Mind reeling, Roy thought desperately for something, _anything_ he could do to save them from a veeery cold death. His alchemy was about as much worth against this catastrophe as a bucket of water against a blazing inferno.

And as he was contemplating kissing his 2IC before death did them apart, his leg suddenly disappeared underneath the snow, pulling the rest of his body along…

-.-.-.-.-.-

1550.

Avalanches happen all the time.

Major General Armstrong wouldn't be too thrilled this time, though.

Kneeling down, Buccaneer took a hand full of loose snow. Looking up, he glared at the top of the mountain through squinted eyes.

The snow storm had settled some half an hour ago and after the avalanche had decided to stop around the tree line where the old bed of the brook was, the captain had decided that it was safe enough to dare and move to the spot where the _ghost-woman_ had last been seen.

To everybody's dismay (except for one rookie, who actually believed in the horror stories circulating the base like fresh spring air), the crime scene had vanished under tons and tons of snow. Not even their best blood hounds would be able to detect the tiniest trace underneath four meters even if they ignored the fact that nobody was actually 100 sure where that yeti-woman had been seen last time.

Grunting again for good measures, the tall, burly soldier got up from the ground and turned around to where his heavily armed men (overkill was no foreign word in Briggs' vocabulary and practiced with exaggeratingly precise delight) where waiting for new orders.

"We head back, men!"

-.-.-.-.-.-

1500.

… or maybe 1459?

Wasn't too easy to read a watch when it was dark…

"Hawkeye?" Without missing a beat: "Yes, sir."

"Havoc?" A winced "Here, boss…" followed.

"Falman?" A short "Present, Sir!" and some shuffling followed.

"Breda?" "I'm really hungry now."

"Fuery?"

…

"Stop nodding, Fuery! It's dark, for God's sake!" "S-sorry, sir!" The Private stuttered, obviously still shaken to the bones by his third near-death experience within three days (new record anyone?).

The sound of wood scratching against rough carton and the tell-tale hiss as a match came to life. The small, yellowish-orange flame flickered irregularly, dancing around on the match's head as if trying to escape.

Havoc's face appeared in the light, eyes drooping, sweat still dripping down his chin.

"Shine it over there, Havoc." Roy ordered and the 2nd Lieutenant did as he was told, even though he could already feel the heat of the fire as it burned down the shaft of one of his very last matches.

The light came upon solid rock. In the background, Jean made out the noise of rummaging, but was too engrossed in waving around the only light source to even attempt to care.

"Now over there." Mustang told his subordinate in a slightly irate voice. They had apparently fallen into an old shaft obviously made by humans, but until now nothing marked an exit and the only way out he knew of was sealed by about three tons of damn snow.

Oh, what a wonderful day.

Doing his best not to flinch away from the flame, Havoc shone the flickering match into the next corner and felt his jaw drop open.

"Put it out! Put it out!" Breda and Roy yelled in unison, storming towards Havoc and practically tackling him down as they all tried to extinguish the tiny flame with whatever body part that would reach the match first.

Darkness again.

Then, after a short silence: "Was that dynamite?"

"Yes."

Sighing, Roy decided that it was time to think again. They had survived the avalanche, were stranded in a dark pit and were surrounded by God knows how much explosives… maybe he should call it a day.

Unexpectedly, bright light flooded the small cave and a collective groan moved through the male part of the unit as they all squeezed their eyes tightly shut against the sudden invasion of their senses.

"I've found my torch, sir." "No kiddin', Hawkeye…"

Riza ignored the sarcastic remark easily and started shining her light around the small confinement, surprised to find herself surrounded by uncountable wooden boxes filled to the brim with dynamite and weapons of all kind and caliber.

An ammunitions depot of the Fort. And thankfully with an exit.

"There's the exit, sir."

Sighing in relief, Roy moved to where the beam of bright white light was pointing and carefully peered around the old door frame into the dark tunnel beyond.

"We gotta keep moving or we'll never make it outta here, men." He said in a calm tone of voice, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. Why was he here again? Ah, right! To kick some woman's ass…

-.-.-.-.-.-

1700.

The Fort had gone out of beef.

Some heads would roll.

"Report."

Nodding, Buccaneer stood at attention, eyes staring straight ahead into nothingness. He was ready to receive punishment! A Briggs soldier never came back empty handed!

"An avalanche has eradicated all traces of possible intruders, Ma'am!"

A long pause followed the shortest debriefing in the history of Amestris as the hot-headed Armstrong woman eyed one of her most trusted man thoughtfully.

"Miles?" The Ishvarian was by her side before she had the chance to blink. "Wasn't there an old entrance to one of the old supply tunnels down at the Berion Creek?"

"Yes, General."

Listening as Miles marched off, Armstrong plotted her next move.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

FINIS

I really like writing this! I hope it is at least partly as entertaining to read…


	4. Chapter 4

Author's rambling:

I am late. I know. Let me explain: I am currently caught in a genetics internship and am standing in a window-less lab for at least 10 hours a day (I leave home when it's dark and return when it's dark… T.T). At the same time I have to learn for exams, prepare and hold several presentations and write papers for other internships. I am close to the brink of unconsciousness, because I haven't slept more than five hours for the last few weeks. I do realize I am whining and that there are author's out there seemingly handling the same obstacles with ease, but I am reeeealy tired.

Thanks for your understanding! I am eternally glad you like this fiction enough to follow my more than irregular updates!!

The latest chapters of FMA (and One Piece, Bleach and DGM) are ass kickers!! Gotta find more time to read them properly again!!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Day 3

-.-.-.-.-.-

Around 1000.

Couldn't be sure.

Military watches should definitely come with integrated lights.

"I start to dislike this situation…" An incorporeal voice echoed through the darkness. Three disembodied grunts gave their consent.

The unit had been walking through absolute darkness for maaany hours (after an equally dark night; and a wet one at this), feeling their way through the nothingness. One hand was constantly pressed against the wall and now and then someone would hiss in pain when coming across obstacles in their way or rough edges in the wall. They didn't have enough batteries for a two day trip underground and had to preserve the few that were left after the bear-incident for some worst case scenarios (which were –with their luck- very likely to happen in the near future).

After a short silence, Breda decided to pick up the conversation again: "Does anybody know what time it is anyway?"

"Breda, for God's sake!" Colonel Mustang's voice held the slightest edge of annoyance and frustration. "Be quite!... And it's 1043 by the way."

Another silence ensued, probably caused by pure shock and awe at the unbelievable ability Roy Mustang had always been famous for in and around his office to know –not simply guess!- the absolutely correct time whenever asked!

His subordinates would test this theory on an exceedingly regular basis, even attempting to catch him off-guard with God knows what diversionary tactics. And now not even absolute darkness could get this epitome of manliness to sway.

The mystery as to why Mustang had developed such a sixth sense was only known to him… and the woman probably walking extremely close by his side right then.

Why she? Well, because Hawkeye had somehow acquired the same marvelous ability in her relatively short life and could match Roy's accuracy easily and with a deadpan face when complimented.

The reason was actually pretty simple.

Roy Mustang, infamous Flame Alchemist, had been a bookworm in his youth. He had locked himself up in the huge library of his master, which had had no windows, for the light would have caused the precious alchemy books to yellow. He had done that for two reasons:

1.: His master/mentor/substitute-father had been a real slave driver. Not only had he wanted lil Roy to learn tons of stuff every day. No! He had also made him do the most ridiculous things (why did one need so much sodium and carbon anyway?) and had him help his daughter with the chores he so easily dodged by locking himself up in his study.

2.: Because he would have done anything to hide himself away from the world outside. There had been way too many immature girlies prowling the house to get a glimpse of him…

Said master had happened to be the father of the woman who had wondrously turned into Roy's 2IC many years later and under circumstances only two people in the whole wide world knew of. Seriously. Those two shared more secrets than the whole military! Couldn't be too healthy for one single human being.

Whenever young Roy had been sitting alone on the thick red carpet between hip high stacks of books, the door would open exactly at 8 o'clock in the morning and a younger Elizabeth Hawkeye would enter with a tray on which she carried breakfast.

Exactly seven hours later (on school days… on weekends she would visit every hour to make sure her fathers beloved and hated apprentice didn't need anything or to simply comment on his inability to socialize), the girl would turn up again with a new tray in hands. Lunch time.

Their daily routine had caused the inner clock in both individuals to turn into one of unknown accuracy. Strangely enough, only Riza seemed to be able to use it and be punctual though… Roy's seventh sense (How to ignore the inner alarm clock) had apparently developed around the same time…

Tears in his eyes (hell, he had all rights to be proud of his CO), Falman stared ahead into blissful darkness, when suddenly he noticed that the slight shuffling of the two soldiers walking ahead of him had ceased, signaling him that they had stopped walking.

Havoc hadn't been as observant and promptly ran into his colleague's back. Consequently, Breda and Fuery did the same.

"Sir?" Vard asked, ignoring the sound of someone rubbing his chest coming from close behind.

"There was a light." Mustang whispered back in a tone barely audible (hand signals didn't work down there neither…). "Stay put."

Some shuffling and within seconds everybody had found a niche in the rough rock surface of the underground tunnel and had pressed into the small refuge. The unit listened intently into the silence, trying to suppress the mere sounds of their existence (was their breath only echoing in _their_ ears?).

Some tense seconds later, something yellowish glimmered at the end of the tunnel, flickering in an irregular pattern across the ground and the rough walls of their confinement. The owner of the light was drawing closer, albeit slowly.

What now?

Roy made a face that almost screamed_I'm-going-to-kill-the-Führer-for-doing-this-to-me_. They had very few to no options left out of this predicament. They hadn't come across any forks ever since entering (or better_falling_) into the underground system, so retreating wouldn't bring them anywhere except for farther away from their goal.

Well… he could still make their opponents explode… Hmmm…

"Sir, don't consider that an option." Came the low whisper from the woman crouching close behind him and again, Roy contemplated the worth of their hyper-mind-link-connection.

Mustang was considering to answer, when he found the beam of light moving merely ten meters in front of him over an abandoned horse cart. Or better what was left of it. Mold had done a wonderful job to most wooden furnishings down there.

Their time was running out and if they didn't come up with anything useful anytime soon, then-

"Sir. We have to be quick, if this is supposed to work out."

And while Roy and Havoc listened intently to Riza's kick-ass plan, the other three men were left to watch the beam of invitingly bright light nearing their position.

Then they were moving. Well, actually only Hawkeye was moving. Like a feline she crawled away from the wall and right into the middle of the tunnel, her backpack lying beside Havoc for him to take.

And then:

-.-.-.-.-.-

1425.

No-one interrupted Major General Armstrong's coffee break.

_NO ONE_.

"They reported in twenty minutes ago." Miles began, walking along behind his CO who was leading the way with brisk strides. The pair was heading for the infirmary, the only 24/7 warm place.

"It appears they were abducted down in the emergency tunnel about six hours ago on a routine patrol, but regained consciousness only two hours ago. They have minor head injuries and are slightly under shock."

"You gotten anything useful out of them, Miles?" Armstrong asked in a low tone, rounding a corner and nearly ran into a young Private. The poor kid nearly dropped the pole he had been using to free the pipes at the ceiling from dangerous icicles and scurried out of his CO's way, saluting briskly.

"Not yet, Ma'am." Miles answered, staring after the Private as he let out a lung of condensed air after his near death experience. "They've mentioned a ghost woman several times."

Right then, the pair entered the infirmary, coming to an abrupt halt right in front of two gurneys, occupied by two shaking soldiers. At the foot of the beds, the young Doctor in charge of the hospital station that day was standing, giving the totally wrecked men a critical look.

"Report." The Major General barked and the two soldiers snapped at attention, heads jerking around to focus bleary eyes at their commanding officer. Lips quivering, soldier C stared at her. "O-on our patrol through the emergency tunnel, w-we had enemy contact."

Soldier D had obviously found the strength to speak as well and so he started to elaborate the crucial details his fearful friend had left out. "Around section twelve we heard a noise. We decided to investigate and moved on with utmost caution. It was then, that the form of a woman with red glowing eyes appeared in the beam of my torch. Sh-she then… " He broke off suddenly, looking away in shame at the refusal of his voice in front of the Major General.

"Continue!" Armstrong ordered, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she glared at the frightened man. Seriously. Who could ever refuse her_anything _when she asked that nicely…

"The gho- the woman lifted her arms within the blink of an eye and then the torch exploded in my hand and it was dark."

"The next thing we knew, something hard hit us upside down across the head and then-" Soldier D trailed off miserably. They had let down their CO and were a disgrace for the Fort! The shame would kill them eventually. Painfully.

What came next was a shock not only for soldier C and D, but also for the Doctor and would have caused major gasp orchestras to travel the rows of soldiers if any had been present. Only Major Miles appeared to be nowhere nearly as shocked.

The Major General smirked.

"Miles." She began, a sly smile covering her lips as she gazed through bangs of dirty blond hair. "Phone up-"

-.-.-.-.-.-

6 Hours earlier

-.-.-.-.-.-

The light of the torches danced across the ground right in front of her boots and Riza's teeth clenched almost painfully as she prepared for the next few seconds that would decide over the unit's fate.

She had gone through the scenario a dozen times already during the last twenty seconds and had decided that this was probably their very last way out of this predicament without getting caught or killed (she didn't actually consider the Colonel's plan to blow up any obstacle an option, but at the same time knew for a fact, that Briggs disliked making prisoners…).

The beam of light flickered across the ground two meters ahead of her. She was standing in the middle of the narrow tunnel, listening intently to the noises the enemies were making on their way towards her position. Her comrades could not be heard and the only other sound was the thrumming of her heart.

The second light chased after the first one and only slightly graced the tips of her boots on its hunt to reach the other wall.

It stopped abruptly and at the same time the shuffling of feet in front of her stopped as well.

A low mumbling noise and then: "Identify yourself!"

Taking slow, deliberate breaths, Riza's hand tightened slightly around the item in her bare palm as she counted calmly down from five.

The beams of bright light moved in unison back to where her boots were and Hawkeye watched the lit ends of the soldier's torches move upwards as they made their lights travel up her legs… her hip… her torso…

The cones of intense brightness reached her face and Riza felt her pupils dwarf from the sudden intrusion and in the second her opponents needed to react, Riza had already lifted her arms, her gun held in one unwavering hand as she aimed at the finally unmoving torches.

Two bullets left the barrel shortly after one another, no noise coming from the weapon as the silencer muffled the shots.

With the noise of bursting glass, the torches went out and darkness reigned again.

Riza registered a terrified shriek from one of the soldiers, but didn't care as she was already moving stealthily through the absolute darkness to where she knew the two men were standing dumbfounded.

After ten meters, the sound of haste, irregular breathing could be heard and as adrenaline surged through her veins, Hawkeye lifted her gun hand, grabbed blindly for the first opponent with the other, actually caught a hand full of jacket and smacked him with the gun across the head.

She felt the man going limp and didn't waste a second to knock out the second intruder within an eye's blink, listening as another thud echoed through the silence.

Allowing herself to take a deep breath, the 1st Lieutenant closed her eyes for a second. She had had them open despite the fact that it had been dark and finally noticed the foolish action.

"Hawkeye?" The voice of her CO brought the young woman out of her internal berating and with a low sigh, she switched on the torch she had been hiding inside the folds of her warm jacket. She had heard Havoc and Breda comparing her to an ice monster, but at least _she_ was warm…

"Sir." She stated simply, shining the light over to where her comrades were standing in the middle of the tunnel, having left their hiding places and looking more like lost children than proud Amestrian soldiers.

"Good job, Hawkeye!" Roy complimented her as he found his way beside her form, staring down at the sorry individuals of men thoughtfully. He scratched his nonexistent beard as he contemplated what to do with them.

Judging by the look on Riza's face, she still wasn't considering blowing them up an option and leaving them right there meant signing their death sentence, for the temperature was way below cero. But carrying them?

He had come to the north to conquer the Fort and not for some fun shipping! They would just leave them. They were in lala-land anyway and wouldn't even notice their consciousness slipping out of their dying bodies as they were shock frosted into ice mummies …

"There must be an exit very close." The voice of his 2nd IC cut his evil plans like a field knife through frozen chicken and he lifted his gaze to watch her with a quirked eyebrow. "They have no backpacks with them, so the entrance to the Fort must be near."

Jaw dropping open slightly, Roy felt his nose begin to drip.

"Yeah, you're right. I already figured that one out, Hawkeye." He mumbled, bending down to examine the unconscious men more closely. They didn't even have a second pair of gloves with them.

"Alright." That solved a lot of problems! "We'll leave them here. They should be out cold for another ten minutes or so. Enough time to find that exit and a new hiding place."

A chorus of "Yes sir!" ensued and Roy turned around, heading purposefully down the tunnel where the soldiers had come from. The bright beam of light of Riza's torch lead the way and he allowed himself to inhale some fresh, cold air through his nose, when he suddenly made out the sound of someone hissing in pain and falling against the rocky walls.

"Argh!"

The group gathered around their fallen comrade and stared.

Havoc had literally fallen and was now sitting against the wall, eyes squeezed closed and his face transformed into a pained grimace. He was holding his right boot in gloved hands, jaw muscles clenching and unclenching rhythmically.

Roy and Riza knelt down to either side of the 2nd Lieutenant, opening the laces of his boots and at the same time gently (forcefully) pressing his torso back against the wall when they pulled his socks off.

Shining the light on the now bare feet, a shocked gasp rolled through the row of men.

"Havoc." Roy began, trying to suppress the need to hit the damn idiot. "Did you dry those socks before we moved on yesterday?"

"W-well…" Came the feeble voice of the tall man. "I did, but they didn't completely dry and I didn't notice my feet were getting frostbite in this darkness… "

Making a fist, Mustang did his _very _best not to succumb to the dire need to smash Havoc's head against the stone wall. What did that damn idiot think? Was he actually thinking at all?

The sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the strained silence then and Roy looked up surprised to find Hawkeye extracting her hand from where Havoc's cheek was glowing brightly red. The shock was written clearly across every face present and Fuery even shrieked.

"You endangered the success of this mission, 2nd Lieutenant!" She stated in a dark tone of voice and every man present cringed at the sheer thought of her being angry and use _that_ tone in combination with his rank. Being berated by her was worse than receiving a Mustangian glare.

"You started to limp yesterday. Next time, speak up when you are in pain. We can't read minds." The gentleness of her voice stood at stark contrast to her earlier action and Havoc hung his head in shame.

"Sorry, Colonel."

Sighing, Roy got up from where he had been crouching, arms akimbo as he watched his 1st Lieutenant sideways as she began to attend to the wounded feet of her comrade with utmost caution.

"Falman, Breda, you help him. Fuery, Hawkeye and I divide your stuff and then we go on."

After a few more minutes, Hawkeye had finished bandaging the frostbitten feet of Havoc. Supported between his friends, Jean limped on, following the backs of his commanding officers with a rueful smile.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

FINIS!!?

Next chapter may take some time, just that you are prepared!! I'm doing my best, but sleep deprivation doesn't help one darn bit… maybe some reviews would lighten up my mood!! XD


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